The Real Thing
by Mordinette
Summary: The turian chef in Zakera Café really knows how to make a great meal. Or, does he? OC turian male / OC human female story, rated M for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is the first chapter of an older story of mine that I wrote as a fill for a prompt on ME kink meme. The prompt was:_

_"I was just replaying ME2, and I rediscovered that Turian selling ingredients on the Citadel. Anybody else remember him?  
Well, I just fell in love with him, so...  
I want to see a fic where the Turian Chef makes a wonderful dinner for his girlfriend (preferably human, but I'm not picky)."_

_Thank you to The Red Celt for beta reading._

_**Disclaimer: **__Mass Effect belongs to BioWare. I do not make any money from the writing of this story._

* * *

The first time he saw her he didn't think much of her, just like he didn't think much of humans in general. They were a relatively new race on the Citadel and some tensions still remained from the war.

He couldn't say if she was pretty by human standards; all he saw was a female with red colored strings called "hair" going from her head down to her shoulders, green eyes and a pale face. She was just another customer for him—no doubt visiting his café to enjoy his world class cuisine. He was proud to provide dishes from all over the galaxy, catering to every race the Citadel accommodated. Well, almost every race: he refused to prepare krogan food, calling those too primitive and simple for his skills.

So when she came in with her friend and asked for an Earth food called "chicken paprikash" he didn't bat an eye.

"Coming right up," he said and got to work behind the counter.

"See, I told you! This is the best place in Zakera Ward!" the other female exclaimed.

"You told her wrong. This is the best place on the whole Citadel," he remarked sharply.

The two women smiled at him politely then started to chat while they waited for the meal.

"So, any news from your family?"

"No, I haven't heard from them in a long time," sighed the red headed one. "I hope they're okay. I miss them a lot."

"I'm sure everything is all right. This meal will make you feel better, you'll see. It'll be like a little taste of home."

"I hope you're right."

When the food was ready he proudly placed the plates on the counter and waited for them to have a taste. He expected praise, but instead disappointment seemed to shadow the red haired woman's face.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

"It's okay."

"Just okay?" He gaped at her, certain that he must have heard wrong. "This is one of my most popular dishes! Everybody loves it!"

"Well, it's all right, it's just that... it's not the real thing."

"What do you mean 'it's not the real thing'?!" He raised his eyebrow plates and flared his mandibles in indignation. Nobody had ever complained about any of his dishes before.

"Something is not right about it," she said with a shrug. She knitted her eyebrows as she leveled a questioning gaze at him. "Did you put sour cream in the sauce?"

"Of course not!" he replied haughtily with a dismissive wave. "That's an unsophisticated way of preparing it."

"But that's how it's done! How can you leave it out?!"

"Excuse me, but which cooking school did you go to? I learnt this recipe from a famous chef at the National Culinary Institute on Palaven."

"Well I learnt this recipe from my grandmother, who came from the country on Earth that this dish originates from!" she retorted, raising her voice and putting her hands on her hips.

"Well then she didn't learn it right."

"What? Are you serious? What makes you think that some turian cook on Palaven knows better how to make this meal than my grandmother?"

"First of all, he was a chef. Not a cook—a CHEF," he scowled. "And second, he came from Earth, too. From a very famous French culinary school."

"But this dish isn't French!"

"So?"

"Aaaahhh!" She seemed ready to strangle him, but her friend held her back.

"It's okay, Claire. Take it easy."

"Fine," she said, taking a deep breath. "Thank you for the meal." She glared at the chef, gritting her teeth, then they paid and left the café, taking the food with them.

Much to his surprise, they were back the next day.

"Human," he said coldly, glowering at the pesky customer from the day before.

"Claire. Name's CLAIRE—not human," she retorted.

"Back for more?" he smirked. "Couldn't find a better restaurant, could you?"

"Don't get cocky. My friend insisted that we come. For some reason, she likes your cooking." She rolled her eyes at that, which infuriated the chef even more.

"You can always go to the krogan place and get some simple fried fish if you prefer," he said coldly.

"Maybe I will. I bet they follow the _real_ recipe and it tastes like it should."

"Not much recipe to follow for fried fish."

"Enough!" The other woman held up her hand with an exasperated sigh. "Let's just order and take our lunch outside."

"Fine," Claire pouted.

"Fine," the chef said at the same time, shrugging his shoulders. The two of them glared at each other, then the women ordered some Earth dish and once it was done, they paid and left.

After that the pair came to his café regularly; they worked nearby and developed the routine of getting their lunch from him then taking it out to eat it somewhere else. He couldn't help but listen to their conversations as he prepared their meals and he learnt that the other woman's name was Anna, Claire was born on some human colony on a distant planet, came to work on the Citadel a few weeks prior, and was homesick like crazy.

* * *

One day Anna came without Claire. She ordered two meals, paid and left. The next day the same thing happened. The third day she came alone again. She placed two orders then stood by the counter, waiting for the meals with a faraway look in her eyes.

The chef watched her while he cooked, pondering a question that had been gnawing at him the last couple of days and wondering if he should say something.

"Is your friend too afraid to come here anymore?" he finally asked, trying to sound as casual as he could.

"Hmm? Oh, no. She's sick. I'm taking some lunch for her in my break."

"Nothing serious, I hope?"

"No, it's just some cold. She should be all right in a few days. I can tell her that you miss her," she smirked at him.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm glad she's not pestering me for a change," he grumbled.

When the food was done Anna paid and was about to leave when he stopped her.

"Wait a minute. I'll be right back."

He disappeared in the back of the café for a few moments and when he returned he was holding the most perfect orange she had ever seen in his hand.

"Here. Give this to her. I've just received a shipment of Earth fruit and, uh, I got too much. Yeah. So I might as well give some away."

"Aww, I'm sure she'll be touched," Anna smiled.

"I just don't want her to come back here sick and spread germs all over my place, you hear? So she'd better get well! I mean, she'd better get well before she comes back!"

"All right, I'll tell her you can't wait to see her again!" she laughed and left.

"No, that's not what I said!" he yelled after her, but she was already gone.

* * *

Neither Anna nor Claire came the next day. He tried to tell himself that he didn't care, but he kept looking at the clock and the door and his temper was even shorter than usual. He even made a mistake with one of the dishes and added turian hot sauce instead of asari honey, which the customer did not appreciate at all.

"What's going on, Silus?" his friend finally asked. He was having his lunch at the café when the incident happened and watched with bewilderment as Silus stomped around in the kitchen, slamming things down and chopping vegetables like he was ready to kill someone.

"Nothing," came the gruff answer.

"Ah, I get it. That little redhead didn't come in today, did she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Silus, I've seen how you look at her."

"How exactly do I look at her?" He stopped chopping, his hand with the knife frozen in the air as he glared at him.

"Like a varren ready to pounce."

"Sure, because she annoys me so much." He shrugged and continued massacring the hapless vegetables.

"That's not the kind of pouncing I was talking about," Etarn chuckled.

"You're crazy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have customers to serve."

"All right, but I hope you won't end up in jail after you've poisoned one of them because you can't pay attention to what you put in their food. I won't bail you out—just so you know." Etarn grinned as he pushed away from the counter.

"Noted. Now please get out before you scare my customers away with your wild accusations."

* * *

He didn't sleep well that night. He had a dream that he saw her face and tried to reach out and touch her but she pulled away in pain then vanished into thin air. He woke up in a cold sweat, panting and clutching the sheets.

_'What the hell is wrong with me? She's just a customer_, _and a human on top of that. I've never been attracted to one of them before.' _He groaned and sat up in his bed, the implications of that thought and what it entailed chilling him to the bone_. 'Wait a minute. Am I really attracted to a human? Spirits, I must have gone crazy.'_

He got up, went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. He stood there, holding on to the sink for a moment, trying to convince himself that it was all Etarn's fault for putting stupid thoughts in his head, then went back to bed.

Despite his resolution to get to sleep as quickly as possible and not think about her anymore he kept tossing and turning, barely getting any sleep at all, and every time he woke up she was on his mind.

* * *

In the morning he got up feeling like he'd been in a wrestling match the entire night and didn't have much enthusiasm for going to work. But he dragged himself there and tried to occupy his hands and mind without thinking about anything in particular. Especially _her_.

But when lunch time came he found himself checking the door every five minutes again. His heart jumped into his throat when he saw her come in with her friend.

"Hi," he said, glad that he managed to squeeze that simple word out without any hint of a tremble in his voice. "Feeling better?"

"Yes." She smiled with a warmth that could have melted a raging krogan's heart.

"That's good," he said, swallowing hard. _'Spirits, she has the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen,' _he thought, trying not to stare at her but failing miserably.

"Thank you for the orange," she continued. "It was really thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome." He wanted to come up with something witty about not wanting it to go to waste— anything to show that he did not care about her at all— but his brain just froze and he stood there looking at her eyes, unable to say or do anything.

"Umm... We'll have the usual, please," she finally said with a blush then turned to her friend.

"So, Anna, you're coming to the Dark Star with me tonight, right?"

She seemed to put special stress on "Dark Star" and "tonight".

"Yes, we'll go there at _nine_, correct?"

"Uh huh." Claire glanced at him as if waiting for him to say something, and when he didn't, she let out a disappointed sigh. "I hope we'll have fun."

After the two women had left Silus stood there, staring after them, trying to make sense of what just happened, then went back to work.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and alerts; I'm so glad you like the story! _

_Thank you to The Red Celt for beta reading._

_**Disclaimer: **__BioWare owns Mass Effect and its characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. _

* * *

The club was alive with music and laughter when they walked in. Claire looked lovely in her new dress, her hair tucked into a bun with a studded pin that sparkled like a hundred little stars in the dim light of the room. Anna, on the other hand, had barely brushed her short black hair and had only thrown on some comfortable pants and a shirt at the last minute. She wasn't here to have fun; she'd only come for Claire's sake and hoped that she didn't have to stay too long.

Claire scanned the room but all she saw was a few people dancing in the back and some humans, turians and salarians standing around chatting or sitting at the tables with their drinks.

They strode up to the counter and ordered two Asari Sunsets from the turian bartender. He poured three different liquids in a shaker, screwed the top on, shook it, threw it high in the air, then shook it again with great flourish. Finally, he poured the mixture into two glasses and pushed the drinks in front of them.

"Here you go, ladies," he said with a wide smile. "Two Asari Sunsets for two beautiful women."

Claire gave him a pleasant smile but Anna just rolled her eyes.

He put his hands on the counter and leaned closer, ready to say something equally witty and charming, but just as he opened his mouth another customer demanded to be served. He sighed, pushed away from the counter and slowly walked to the other end of the bar.

Claire took a sip of her drink then turned to Anna with an anxious look. "Do you think he'll come?"

"He'd better. I really don't want to stick around here the whole night, waiting for him. What do you see in him anyway? From the way you two always fight I thought you couldn't stand him."

"We don't really fight. We... have lively conversations. And he's smart, and funny and... very good looking."

"Good looking?" Anna snorted. "He's a turian, for Christ's sake.

"So? You think they can't be good looking?" Claire shrugged, then added with a smirk, "Have you looked at his eyes? Or his broad shoulders and cute little butt?"

"No, not really."

"Well, I have," Claire chuckled.

The next moment she almost choked on her drink when somebody grabbed her waist from behind.

"Hey, baby!" a dangerously swaying young man shouted in her ear. "Wanna dance?"

"No," Claire said, trying to push his hands off.

"Come on, it's gonna... gonna... uh... be fffun"

"Get your filthy hands off her or I'm gonna break every bone in your body!" Anna snarled, turning on her heel, ready to punch him in the nose.

"You can...cccome... ttooo," he stuttered, trying to grab Anna's arm. "Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow!" he wailed when three thick fingers grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back.

"I believe the ladies told you to leave them alone," a menacing voice growled in his ear.

"Okay, okay, I'm going," the man protested, and once free, he staggered away.

"Hi!" Claire beamed at the turian, cheeks blushing, eyes sparkling.

"Hi. Umm... Fancy seeing you here," Silus said, looking awkward, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was not a very good liar.

"Thanks for your help with that idiot," Anna remarked, crossing her arms in front of her chest and frowning at the young man wobbling towards the door. Claire smiled and enthusiastically nodded her head.

"No problem," Silus said with a nod, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Umm... My friend and I got a table over there. Would you two care to join us?"

"We'd love to!" Claire quickly replied with a big grin. The night was going even better than she'd hoped.

He ordered some drinks for the group at the bar then led the two women to the table.

"This is my friend Etarn. Etarn, this is Claire and Anna. Uh... Two good customers."

"I think we've met a few times at his restaurant," Etarn said, flaring his mandibles in a smile. "It's nice to see you here."

"Likewise. You know what, I don't even know your name," Claire turned to Silus as she took a seat next to him. Between her and Anna he'd gone from _that turian asshole_ to _that turian _to _the chef _to just _him_, but she'd never found out his actual name.

"It's Silus."

"Silus... That's a nice name."

"Thanks."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments then Etarn cleared his throat and turned to Anna.

"So, what do you do here on the Citadel?"

"Claire and I work at a shipping company in Zakera Wards. How about you?

"You know Rodam Expeditions? I work there, organizing adventure travel packages and selling weapons."

"Really?" Anna leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. "What kind of weapons?"

"Only the best. All high-grade equipments and upgrades."

"Mmm... I'll have to come in and check them out sometime."

"These are for hunting big game, you know, not shooting pyjacks."

"You don't say," Anna snorted. "For your information, I used to hunt varren and other beasts with my father and brothers on the colony I come from. So I think I know a thing or two about guns and hunting big game."

"Hmm... Maybe you'd be interested in one of our packages then."

"Possibly. I'll have to take a look."

Etarn glanced at Silus then turned his attention back to Anna.

"Say, do you want to dance?" he asked, fixing her with his gaze while slightly nodding his head towards the other two.

"Oh. Sure," she said and got up, shooting a sly smile at her friend.

Etarn grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the dance floor, leaving Silus and Claire behind. They sat in awkward silence for a while, waiting for the other to start the conversation.

"So. You work at a shipping company," Silus finally began.

"Yeah. Temporarily. I've come here to make enough money so I could go to art school on Earth."

"So you're planning on moving there some day?" His heart sank at the possibility of her leaving, no matter how far in the future. Just last week she was nothing more than a nuisance to him, but now he couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again.

"I was. But now... I don't know."

Would she really want to give up the life that she'd made for herself in this bustling, incredible place? Give up the friends she'd made and this fascinating, attractive creature that she couldn't wait to see and talk to every day?

"You know, there's a very good art school here on the Citadel," he interrupted her thoughts, nervously hoping that she wouldn't reject his idea.

"There is? Wow. There's still so much I don't know about this place. I'll have to look into this then. Thanks," she gratefully smiled at him and his heart almost burst with joy. "How about you? How did you end up here?"

"Well, I always wanted to be a chef and have my own restaurant but I needed some startup capital to make that happen. So I got a job here selling cooking ingredients and once I saved enough I bought the place and turned it into the restaurant that you know."

"How long have you lived here?"

"About five years."

"Do you miss your family?"

"Some of them."

"I know what you mean," Claire laughed. "I guess every family has its share of crazy uncles. Yeah, I miss some of my family, too. And some of the food that I can't find here."

"Like what? And don't say 'chicken paprikash'".

"Okay, other than that? Ice cream. Cookies 'n cream, specifically."

"Ice cream? Hmm... I'm not sure if I've seen that anywhere here on the Citadel. But... There's a place on the Presidium where they sell something similar. It's an asari frozen dessert and it's quite popular. Would you like to go there and try it?"

"Sure! I'd love to!"

They got up and cut through the crowd to find Etarn and Anna and ask if they wanted to come along. They found them on the dance floor, moving to the beat, trying to outdo each other with the coolest dance moves they could come up with and laughing their heads off in the process. Etarn took Anna's hand and twirled her around then grabbed her waist and dipped her down, making her squeal and hold onto him with all her might. They were having a great time and weren't the least bit interested in leaving.

"Just go. I'll get her home, I promise," Etarn said.

"Not before you've shown me those guns!"

"Fine. Dance, guns, then my place."

"Hey!" Anna punched him in the arm. "Watch yourself, buddy!"

"Okay, okay" Etarn laughed. "Your place then."

"That's better... Wait... You sly bastard" she giggled, then waved them off. "We'll be fine, just go and have fun. See you tomorrow."

* * *

The little café had a pleasant outdoor area next to a small lake, surrounded by trees and flowers. The artificial environment was set to nighttime and the lights of the neighboring establishments reflected on the water like hundreds of colorful jewels. It was a breathtaking sight that made it hard to believe that you were on a giant space station and not a paradise planet.

"So, how's your dessert?" Silus asked, taking a sip of his own turian smoothie.

"Very good. Sweet and creamy." Claire smiled as she licked the concoction off her spoon then dug into the fluffy substance again.

He watched her pink tongue emerge from those luscious red lips to dip into the soft peak and draw a bit into her mouth, only to dart out again and slowly lick the rest of it off.

He sat there, mesmerized, forgetting about the cup he was holding in his hand, starting to feel his plates loosen and his throat get dry. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her lips and tongue and move up to her eyes. She had them closed for a second, enjoying another lick, then slowly opened them, letting her sparkling green iris emerge from under her long eyelashes.

_'Not helping,' _he groaned inside and took a deep breath in a hopeless effort to control his breathing and slow his racing heart down.

"How's yours?" she asked cheerfully, oblivious to the agony he was going through just making himself look relaxed and not at all like he was ready to pounce on her and take her right on the spot.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, desperately trying to pull himself away from those dangerous thoughts and sound as casual as possible. "It's quite good."

"This is a beautiful place," she said, looking around, taking in all the sights around her. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"You're welcome. I can show you some other nice areas of the Citadel if you'd like."

"I'd love that!" she smiled at him, happy that he wanted to spend more time with her. "But we'd have to do that another day. It's getting late and I should really get home soon."

They finished their desserts then took a rapid transit cab to her apartment building. She stopped at the door, turned to face him and looked up into his eyes.

"Thank you. I had a great time."

"Yeah, me too. Umm... Can I see you again tomorrow? I mean, not only at lunch, but also in the evening? We could go explore the Citadel—"

"That would be wonderful," she grinned then reached up and pulled his head down to touch her lips to his mouth.

She only meant it as a little peck, not knowing if turians kissed, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her close to return the gesture. His mouth plates felt alien but soft and she could feel his mandibles twitch slightly against her skin. The moment she parted her lips his tongue rushed in, sweet and strong, searching out her own, drawing a soft moan from somewhere deep within her chest. He kissed her, holding her tight, sliding one hand up her back and onto her scalp, weaving his fingers into her hair. It felt much softer and silkier than he'd expected. He decided that he loved human hair and couldn't stop stroking it. She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her; their tongues swirling against each other, the feel of his skin on the back of his neck against her fingers, his strong hands holding her and caressing her hair.

Their lips finally parted and he touched his forehead to hers, a soft rumble vibrating in his chest that she could feel right through her own body.

"Claire," he whispered, "I wish you didn't have to go."

"I know. But I'll see you again tomorrow." She brushed her fingers against his cheeks and smiled. "Good night, Silus."

"Good night, Claire."

He watched her disappear behind the glass door then headed home. He needed a long, cold shower.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I'm so sorry that this final chapter has taken this long to upload. I decided that I didn't like how it was written originally, so I wanted to re-write it, but unfortunately an acute case of writer's block (plus some RL stuff) interfered with those well-laid plans. But now here it is, with a little trim here, some expansion there, and hopefully improved enough to have made the wait worthwhile for those of you who are still interested in the story._

_As always, big thanks to all of you who have reviewed the previous chapters, and also to those who have favorited and/or put the story on alert._

_Thank you to The Red Celt for beta reading and for her very helpful suggestions._

**_Disclaimer: _**_BioWare owns Mass Effect and its characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story._

* * *

The next day they went to a park; the day after that Claire dragged Silus to an art show, then he took her on a dinner boat ride on the Presidium. He showed her all his favorite places and they discovered some new areas together.

When the latest Blasto movie came out there was no question what they were going to do that night; as it turned out, they were both big fans of the series, especially Blasto 2 and 4 (though Silus was partial to the latter on the count of it having a most exciting party scene involving a plate of poisoned shatha stew, several clueless guests and accidental mix-ups with the sitting order).

They left for the theater well ahead of time so that they could get some snacks and drinks before finding a good place to sit but even so, by the time they arrived, the big holo room was already filling up with members of virtually all the races that called the Citadel their home. Blasto was a popular character and everybody had to see his movies at least once, and apparently half the space station had decided to come to opening night for their first viewing. Luckily, Silus and Claire managed to snag two comfortable chairs at a good distance from the screen so they settled down, excited for the show to start, and Claire snuggled in as close to Silus as the chair allowed. She rested her head on his shoulder and took a bite out of her Nutrino bar as she looked around, observing the people around them.

She noticed, with a bit of a surprise, a turian male and a human female sitting several rows in front of them, huddling together in quiet conversation. They looked vaguely familiar, though it was hard to see clearly from the back, especially with other audience members blocking her view as they moved around the theater, searching for the best chairs (though the room was designed in such a way that virtually every seat provided an optimal viewing experience—at least according to the advertisements of the establishment, which were ubiquitously plastered all over the Citadel).

Even so, judging by the little glimpses she could catch, the pair seemed to be getting along really well, the woman bursting out in laughter every so often at the jokes of her partner, so she nudged Silus and leaned closer to his ear canal as she whispered excitedly, "Look, there's another turian-human couple over there! It's nice to see that we're not the only ones."

He glanced in the direction towards which she had nodded her head, but all he could see was a turian male sitting next to a black-haired human female, so he shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "They could be just friends who came to see the movie together," then he took a sip of his drink and turned his attention back to stroking her arm with his free hand.

"Well, he's just kissed her, so that theory's out the window," she laughed, then she suddenly grabbed his hand and sat straight up in her chair. "Wait a minute! That's... Etarn and Anna!"

"Really?" Silus whipped his head back towards the couple, his eyebrow plates raised in genuine surprise. Ever since their first unofficial date in the Dark Star lounge he'd spent most of his free time with Claire and hadn't really had the chance to talk to Etarn like he used to; apparently, once they got together again they'd have a lot to catch up on. "Did you know that they were dating?"

"I knew that they'd become friends and did things together, like going to a shooting range and stuff," Claire replied with a chuckle as she cuddled up to Silus again. In fact, Anna couldn't stop talking about their rivalry whenever she'd mentioned Etarn to her; Etarn and Anna had ongoing bets about who was a better shot and constantly tried to outdo each other with their shooting skills. "But I didn't know it was more than that. I guess you didn't either?"

"No. But I'm not surprised."

"Oh? How come?"

"Because turian males are irresistible," he said with a confident smirk, as if he was only repeating a well-known fact of the galaxy.

"Right. And how about human females?"

"They are wonderful," he purred, rubbing his chin against the top of her head in an affectionate gesture.

"Good answer."

"I thought so, too," he laughed, then added after a short pause, "Speaking of wonderful women, I've heard your birthday is coming up."

"How did you know?" She looked up at him with wide eyes; they'd talked about a lot of things during the last couple of weeks, but this was something she had not shared with him before.

"Anna told me. The other day, when I bumped into her in the Wards after work. And I'm glad she did, because this gives me an excuse to treat you to a dinner and dazzle you with my cooking skills. At my place, if that's okay."

He tried to sound as casual as he could, and hoped that Claire was not going to notice the quiver in his sub-harmonics or the dark blue tint of his neck as he waited for her answer. After all, this was going to be the first time that she would be in his apartment—provided that she accepted his invitation—and he wasn't sure if it would mean as much to her as it did to him. He wasn't exactly the most social person on the station, and he almost never had anyone over, but Claire... she was different. He never would have thought that it would be a human that one day he'd have these feelings for, but he wanted to share everything with her (including the quiet sanctity of his home) and he waited with bated breath to find out if she felt the same way.

Apparently the Spirits were in a good mood that day, for Claire replied with a blush, her own voice suddenly hoarse and a little shaky, "That would be fun. Thank you."

"Tomorrow night then?"

"Yes. Tomorrow night."

The movie started soon after that, but for the first time ever he couldn't care less about Blasto and his adventures; all that mattered was Claire sitting right next to him, her five delicate fingers entwined with his own three thick digits, her head on his shoulder, and the promise of the next night in his heart.

* * *

His apartment was spacious and bright, with a big kitchen full of pots and pans and various cooking utensils. It was usually an organized, clean place, but right now the counters were cluttered with bowls and plates and containers, the sink piled high with dirty dishes—the casualties of his frenzied chopping and stirring and stewing and braising. He pureed this, blended that, added a pinch of salt or sugar here and there, bringing out the perfect flavor in every dish and soon the most wonderful aroma filled the air.

By the time Claire arrived everything was ready: the table set, candles lit, music playing in the background.

"Mmmm... Something smells good," she said as she entered his apartment and sniffed the air.

"I think it's you." He flared his mandibles in a smile and pulled her close, then he bent down and nuzzled the crook of her neck. Her happy little chuckle drew out a soft purr from his chest, and he had to force himself to pull away before his body would decide to demonstrate his desire for her in other, more visible ways.

He took her by the hand and showed her around and as they walked her eyes scanned the room, taking in the furniture, holos of friends and family (there were several of her, too, she noted with a smile), a few alien-looking plants, and a big picture window showcasing a breathtaking panorama of the Citadel. She stopped at the glass and stared at the view; her own place was on a lower floor, with not much to look at but some treetops and more apartment buildings in the distance. This, though, was something to admire and capture in paint; the warm yellows and cool blues and greens with the fiery reds of the sky cars as accent colors—her artist's eyes couldn't stop drinking in the scene in front of her, memorizing every little detail, lost in her own world until two strong hands settled on her shoulders and brought her back to reality.

"It's beautiful," she said as she leaned back against him with a sigh.

"Just like you," he replied with a warm rumble, then he reached inside his pocket and pulled out an exquisite necklace. He carefully put it around her neck and clicked the clasp closed. "Happy birthday, Claire," he whispered into her ear, his hot breath sending chills down her spine and tickling her skin.

She reached down and lifted the medallion to look at the stone encased inside, sparkling green, just like her eyes.

"Wow. Thank you! It's beautiful," she exclaimed, admiring the way the colors shifted from green to blue to teal depending on the way the light illuminated it. "What is this stone?"

"It's from Palaven. It's a precious gem found only in a few places on the whole planet. I'm glad you like it. So... are you hungry?"

"I'm starving! I can't wait to see what you've made," she chuckled then turned around and kissed his cheek plate.

He'd made levo dishes for her and dextro food for himself; her dinner started with a cold fruit soup which she enjoyed a great deal. It reminded her of something she used to have back at home: sweet and sour and creamy, with little bits of fruit blended in. Once she'd scooped up every last drop of the liquid he brought in the salad and the main dish, all covered with a dome shaped top.

"All right. Ready for the main event?"

"I can't wait!" she said, fixing her gaze on the tray.

When he finally lifted the top, her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped as she stared at the food in front of her. It was chicken paprikash, with sour cream and spaetzle, just the way her grandmother used to make it.

"Oh my god! You've made it the way I like it!"

"Well, dig in and tell me if it's the real thing now."

She eagerly took a bite, closed her eyes and let out a blissful sigh.

"It's wonderful. Yes, this is the real thing. Thank you so much! So, you changed the ingredients!"

"I did some research and found the original recipe, and I'm going to make it like this from now on. I'll call it 'Claire's Real Chicken Paprikash'." His mandibles flared in a wide grin and his eyes glinted warmly in the candle light; he couldn't have been more pleased with her reaction to his surprise.

"I'm honored!" She laughed then took another bite, delighting in every bit of the meat and sauce.

Her happy smile was enough to make him purr contentedly, and the evening wasn't even over yet.

When the food was all gone he got up, strolled into the kitchen and brought out another bowl.

"And now for the finale," he announced as he put the dish in front of her with great flourish.

"This... this is... it's ice cream! Cookies 'n cream!" she gasped, staring at the soft peaks. "Where did you get this?"

"I had it flown in from Earth—" he started, but the words froze on his lips when he realized that her eyes were suddenly welling up and her mouth curved down in what he could only interpret as discomfort. He knelt down beside her, cupped her face and turned it towards him with great concern. "What's the matter? Are you all right? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, not at all," she replied, sniffling and wiping away her tears. "I'm just happy, that's all."

"You cry when you're happy?" He was quite confused about this concept. He knew humans and asari leaked water from their eyes when they were sad and this was called "crying". But he'd never heard of them doing this when they were actually happy.

"Yes, sometimes." She laughed, put her arms around his neck and touched her forehead to his. "Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. Ever."

He didn't know what to say to that; he was glad that he could make her happy, though he felt strangely responsible for having made her cry, and his heart ached at the thought that others hadn't treated her the way she deserved. So he followed his instincts and reached out to stroke her silky hair as he let his sub-harmonics rumble a soothing tone, just like his mother used to when he was little and hurt.

She put her hands around his neck; she could feel the vibrations through her forehead and her fingers, and an incredibly warm and comforting sensation spread out through her body right down to her toes. Her lips sought out his mouth plates and pressed against them, and when his tongue darted out she deepened their kiss with a contented sigh. Her hands slid down his back, found the hem of his shirt and wiggled under it, then moved up again along his plates and patches of soft leathery skin, dragging her nails along in long strokes.

He let out a little growl and forced himself to pull away from her lips. "Claire," he panted, "We don't have to do this. I didn't invite you just to get into your pants . . . no matter how much I'd like to," he added with a breathy chuckle.

"But I want to. I really, really want to get into _your _pants." She giggled and kissed him again.

Her words sent a jolt of hot flash right to his seam, loosening his plates, and he couldn't resist anymore. He arose from his kneeling position, lifting her up with him, then he grabbed her legs and hooked them around his waist while he supported her bottom with his hands, and started to head towards the bedroom.

"Wait!" she exclaimed and she squeezed his arms hard.

His heart sank and he froze as he was, unable to move or breathe for a moment. Did she change her mind? Or did he misinterpret her words?

"The ice cream! I'm not going to let it go to waste," she declared with fierce determination. "Let's put it back into the freezer first."

She bent down and picked up the bowl while he was still holding her (he couldn't believe how flexible humans could be—it would have broken his own back to twist and turn like that), then he carried her into the kitchen, relieved.

* * *

By the time they got to the bedroom she had already kicked her shoes off and covered his face, neck, mandibles—any part within reach—with a thousand kisses. When he carefully lowered her onto the bed she pulled him down with her and held him close as she ran her hands along his fringe and traced his mouth with her tongue, and she let out a happy little moan when he kissed her back.

He growled softly as he turned his attention to her throat, licking her skin from her ear down to her collarbone then back up to her jaw. Her hair, that silky hair that he loved so much, spread out over her shoulder and onto his pillow and he reached out to brush it away and reveal her skin underneath. He nuzzled the crook of her neck then let his hand wander down and lightly graze the swell of her breast. His touch sent shivers down her spine and he felt a little bud harden under her dress; his attention duly drawn, he gave a soft squeeze, then bent down to gently nibble the mound with his mouth plates.

She let out a little gasp at that and dug her fingers into the sensitive skin on the back of his neck which, in turn, dispatched a rush of heat straight to his plates, opening them almost all the way now. He searched for a way to get rid of her dress and when he finally found a zipper in the back he carefully pulled it down, loosening the clothing enough to allow him to push the straps off her shoulders.

As he proceeded to slowly peel the cloth off he followed its path, inch by inch, with little licks of his tongue, tracing her shoulders, her breasts, her hip bones, all the way down to her thighs and legs, until he could pull the dress entirely off and drop it on the floor by the bed. He did the same with her underwear, nibbling through the fabric first before dragging it off then returning to run his tongue over her bare nipples, her stomach, and her center.

He adored her body and her skin; he'd been with asari before, so he thought he knew what to expect, but she was so much softer and smoother than he could have imagined. He couldn't stop purring as he traced her sensitive areas with his fingers and his tongue and his heart almost burst with joy when she arched her back into his caress and moaned and sighed at his touch. "You're so beautiful," he whispered as he nuzzled the inside of her thigh and nipped at it gently.

She shivered then pushed him off and climbed over him with the same movement, her voice husky and deep as she said, her eyes locked onto his through her hair falling into her face. "My turn".

She bent down and kissed him, then she moved down his body and started to roll his tunic up along his torso, revealing his tough plates and leathery hide, exposing them to her inquisitive fingers and lips. He clutched the sheets and let out a ragged moan as she traced the hills and valleys of his waist and stomach and chest, and he lifted his upper body helpfully when she tugged on the shirt to remove it. Once it was gone, she turned her attention to his pants, continuing the torturously slow pace of her explorations, and when her fingers ran over his loosened plates he couldn't hold back any longer. His erection emerged into her hand, a deep rumble erupted in his chest, and his hips bucked unconsciously as she ran her fingers over his length then squeezed it lightly.

For a moment she almost forgot to breathe as she marveled at the ridges and intriguing texture of his shaft. It felt a bit thicker and longer than the men she'd been with (not that she'd had that many lovers before), but still it was familiar and more than ever she really, really wanted to feel him inside her. She pulled his pants down and dropped them on the floor beside their other clothing items, then climbed over him again, straddling his waist, then sank slowly down and took him all the way in with a soft moan. Holding onto his cowl, she started to rock back and forth, her spine in a graceful arc and her eyelashes fluttering closed as he reached up and cupped her breasts then slid his hands down to her waist, then her hips, and held her tight.

He joined her movements with his own, but he let her set the pace until she cried out his name and collapsed on top of him, her inner channel pulsing around his shaft and her body trembling in his arms. When she went limp he flipped them on their sides, straddling one of her legs and hooking the other one around his waist, and began to gently glide in and out, his hand roaming over her body as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her sweet scent, then carefully dragged his teeth and tongue over her ear and throat as he drove into her, a bit harder and deeper with every stroke, and when he felt her own blunt teeth scrape the skin on his neck under his mandibles and her fingernails scratch a path down his back and dig into the skin on his waist he turned them over with a growl until she was under him and he could pound into her with all the force he thought she could take. He was well aware that she was smaller and more fragile than a turian woman, and tried to hold back as much as he could, but it was getting harder and harder; the way she moaned his name and her inner muscles clenched around him was enough to set his blood on fire and threaten to rob him of all his self-control.

His movements hit all the sensitive bundles of nerves inside her and she met his thrusts eagerly, letting him bury himself to the hilt as she cried out with every push. She clutched his arms but soon released her hold, only to move her hands to the back of his neck, stroking the sensitive skin; her fingers slid down to his back and her nails scratched the softer areas between his plates, urging him to go faster, deeper, harder. He finally let go and gave her his all, pushing and thrusting and grunting with all his might, until a hoarse cry escaped her throat and he felt her body go rigid for a second before her channel clamped down and started to convulse around him. He didn't need more than that for his own release; after a few more erratic thrusts all he could see was a white hot flash of stars as he exploded inside her with a loud grunt, then collapsed onto his elbows and bent his head down to press his forehead against hers.

He couldn't open his eyes for a moment as he lay above her, panting, trying to keep his weight off of her as much as he could while he waited for his shaft to recede. His chest rumbled with a happy purr that he knew she could feel right through her own body, and when he could finally crack his eyelids open the first thing he saw was her warm smile, followed by those beautiful, green, sparkling irises that he always found himself lost in.

She reached up and stroked his face plates and the words she muttered, breathless and sated, filled his heart with so much warmth and joy and love—yes, love; he never would have thought that he would have these kinds of feelings for someone outside of his own species, but here he was, head over heels in love with this human—that he was afraid his chest was going to burst:

"Best birthday ever."

His mandibles flared in the biggest grin she'd ever seen, and when he rolled onto his side and she snuggled in next to him, stretching her arm across his stomach, he thanked the Spirits for leading him to this incredible place and letting him meet this wonderful woman. And most of all, he thanked them for the one thing that made all this possible; the one thing without which this never would have happened: the amazing, delicious, unbeatable chicken paprikash.

~The End~


End file.
